Everything had been going so well.
“I want a fucking answer, you fucking piece of shit–what the fuck were you doing to my fucking jock that it fucking looks like this?” Daryn held up the shredded underwear so Jasper could see it–but he already knew what it looked like–the waistband broken and mostly gone, about half the pouch remaining, several chunks gone and the edges frayed. He’d been stupid to take it, but he’d been so hungry, and he’d done so well for two months–hadn’t he deserved a reward?
He really had done well–even Mr. Wadsworth had said so to him. He’d lost quite a bit of his weight from that first binge, and with a…meager diet every day–a cup of piss water, a few cum soaked pieces of tissue–he’d managed to keep the worst of the hunger at bay, and still keep his wits about him, but it hadn’t always been easy. He’d fallen off the wagon a couple of times–never as badly as that first taste, but enough to know that if he wasn’t careful–and if he didn’t keep Daryn completely in the dark–then things were bound to get much more complicated.
The jockstrap had been taunting him for days at this point, just lying on the floor by the trashcan in Daryn’s room. It smelled…so fucking good, so fucking delicious, and it wasn’t like Daryn was going to miss one of his many, many jockstraps, right? So he’d taken it back with him into his room one night, and started devouring it, unable to believe how good it tasted, and how horny it made him. He savored it, portioned it out–a bit of waistband tonight, a little patch of crusty pouch tomorrow–maybe he should have just disposed of the evidence in one go, maybe then he wouldn’t be here, in this mess, with Daryn looming over him, throat dry, not sure what sort of lie he might even manage to tell.
“You want to know what this fucking looks like?” Daryn asked, “It looks like something has been fucking eating my jockstrap–that’s what it looks like.”
It…maybe a mouse, or something?” Jasper replied.
“And why in the fuck did I find it in your room, hidden under your fucking pillow? This is my fucking jock–you don’t take my shit, you fucking pig.”
“I’m sorry, I just…I was hungry–” Fuck, did he just say that?
Daryn just stared down at him, and then sneered. Without saying a word, he shoved the jock into Jasper’s face, and unable to stop it–he’d never figured out how to stop it–he started drooling, knees shaking slightly, and Daryn mopped it up with the fabric. “I always wondered why you seemed to drool every time you looked at me, you know that? If you were so fucking hungry, all you had to do was ask nicely. So, let me hear you ask, fucker. What do you want?”
Jasper sealed his lips, unable to trust his words.
“I’ll tell you what I don’t want,” Daryn said, “I want you to be hungry, Jasper. I’f I’d known, I would have done a much better job feeding you.”
Jasper’s jaw dropped, and Daryn took the opportunity to push the half-eaten jockstrap into his mouth. “That’s a good little dump–go on and finish your meal, and then we’ll see what else I can feed you.”
It wasn’t hard, eating it. He’d already noticed that his teeth had changed in odd ways, becoming a bit serrated, better for tearing apart fabric and tissue, and his slobber made swallowing the thing down so easy. Daryn was so happy too–why had he been trying to keep this a secret from him for so long? Daryn was only too happy to feed Jasper a load of cum and piss next, and as soon as he’d tasted both of them fresh and from the source, Jasper knew he’d never be able to do without either ever again. June was still two months away, however–if he didn’t push back, then what would happen to him? To them both?
The next day, Daryn was distressed to see he’d wiped away a small chunk of the gains his prior temperance had earned him, and he went out, planning on telling Daryn he couldn’t do this anymore. That he was alright with being hungry, if it meant he could be himself again. Instead, he found himself on his knees, sucking down three loads from Daryn before his roommate had to leave for class. He sobbed on the kitchen floor, both because he was so full and satisfied than he’d ever thought possible, and also because he knew he’d likely lost his one chance at ever getting back into his previous life.
Still, his mind didn’t last long enough to really understand what he’d lost–with Daryn now making sure his dump was constantly fed, within a week Jasper had lost most of capacity for thought. He spent the day wandering the apartment on all fours, heavy gut dragging along the floor behind him, snorting and rooting around for anything his master might have left him to eat. After devouring the contents of his gym bag one afternoon–his cleats included–Daryn was forced to keep his pet kenneled up during the day, and he’d let him out when he got home each day, fed him load after load of cum and piss and the food scraps from dinner, before fucking the thing’s tight hole, and putting him back in his cage for the night. When June rolled around, neither of them could even remember the fact that Jasper had once been human–he was just a pet now, a dump really. Still, Daryn saved a lot of money on his five year lease–especially after Mr. Wadsworth corrected the mistaken “multiple tenant” fee and changed it to a pet fee instead. Yeah, Daryn figured they’d both be staying here for a long time–but Jasper was happy anywhere, as long as he always had a gut full of his master’s filth.
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